Who's Afraid Of TiVo? The Myth Of Destructive Extrapolation
By Rob Walker

(FORTUNE Magazine) – I predict that mass culture will persist.

That might not seem like a very risky assertion. But for some years now, new technology has been touted not only on the basis of what it will achieve but also on the basis of what it will destroy. Napster will destroy the record industry, Amazon will destroy malls, the Web will destroy everything, and everything will destroy television. Most recently, the super-VCRs marketed under the names TiVo and ReplayTV have been called the Trojan horse that will end network television and TV advertising, and even mass culture itself. My counterprediction is based on the specifics of these devices--and on my belief that technology pundits almost always overestimate the destructive power of whatever gizmo they're in love with.

TiVo and ReplayTV are not brand-new. The New York Times ran a long story about the "personal video recorder" in July 1999, explaining that the gadgets would allow users far more flexibility and control over their television viewing and make it easier than ever to skip commercials. The piece passed along the prediction of a Forrester Research analyst named Josh Bernoff that the devices would bring about "the end of network television."

For the next 13 months nothing happened. Then the Times' Sunday magazine offered a long cover story by Michael Lewis on the same subject, in which the noted author predicted that "the black box" would shatter the mass market. How? The black box makes it simple for you to ignore television schedules and watch whatever you've recorded at your own convenience, zapping past the ads. This will allow us all to program virtual networks of our own, and "if television ceases to be a mass market, the mass market largely ceases to exist. There will either be hundreds of versions of Tide or no Tide at all."

Personal video recorders keep meticulous track of their users' viewing habits, from which we may extrapolate what other sorts of shows they might like. And to the extent that there will still be advertising, we can also extrapolate what to advertise to whom and when. Forrester's Bernoff was again available to explain the consequences: "You and I may not care to watch a commercial for Preparation H. But for someone with hemorrhoids, it might be the thing he is most eager to hear about. And he's the one the makers of Preparation H want to talk to."

Not really. Preparation H is not a dominant brand because it is known to hemorrhoid sufferers; it is dominant because it is known to everyone. But set that example aside. (Let's also ignore what kind of viewing patterns would reveal a need for hemorrhoid ointment.) With or without TiVo, there will probably be more niche products for more niche audiences in the future, but it does not follow that everything is niche-able. I think this is just as well for consumers, because actively researching every product you buy--figuring out which of the hundreds of boutique Tide offshoots best expresses who you are--would be a nightmare. And the makers of many products, such as detergent and over-the-counter medicine, will continue to covet the largest, most diverse audience they can possibly find. The Times magazine piece admits in an exasperated parenthetical that while network audiences are smaller, ad revenues are higher than ever: "It's as if what matters to [advertisers] is not the absolute size of the audience but the relative one." Well, yes, that's exactly what matters.

As for these devices' ability to help us all seize control of our television viewing, that seems like a solution to a problem not many people have. Personal video recorders certainly appear to have advantages over the VCR. Yet it's pretty rare that I thumb through the TV guide wishing there were some way I could harness all the fantastic programming. Still, maybe I'm wrong and these devices will spread like wildfire. (Curiously, the Times recently ran another story on these same products suggesting that they weren't selling very well; no sign of Bernoff in that one.)

Even if the black boxes do catch on, why would it have to mean the end of anything? Something about the art of prognostication--let's call it the Law of Destructive Extrapolation--seems to rule out the idea that perhaps the future is not a zero-sum game. The recording industry was not killed by radio, radio was not killed by network television, network television was not killed by cable or by the VCR; film was not killed by network television, cable, or the VCR; the Internet, so far, hasn't killed anything but investors.

Each of these media has evolved and will continue to evolve, no doubt. But just because The Shadow and Fibber McGee and Molly are history doesn't mean that the Howard Stern Show isn't big business. Yet the Law of Destructive Extrapolation typically paints the future as a world driven by one fantastic bit of technology, while all other actors stand passively by, waiting for their slice of the pie to get taken away.

In the real world, targets tend to react. That is why you can tell the difference between today's network television and that of the 1960s--or the 1980s, for that matter. Meanwhile, the pie just keeps growing, which seems like good news for everybody. So who's to say that, with this or that new innovation, it's suddenly going to stop?

ROB WALKER (walker.rob@lycos.com) is a contributing writer for Money and Slate. Richard A. Shaffer, the regular Watch This Space columnist, is on leave.